


Round the Bend

by Sorenalice



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Angst, Asylum, Mental Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-07 23:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorenalice/pseuds/Sorenalice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They thought he was broken and crazy. So they did what most people do with broken things. They hid him. They are ashamed of him. And he was locked away for a year. Until one came to rescue him from spending the rest of his life like a caged bird.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Round the Bend

**Author's Note:**

> A Christmas fanfiction! A bit depressing probably, but it ends kinda happy, I suppose. Some swearing and teenage rage. Also, I, personally have nothing against Alabama, but it’s the first place that came to mind. Hope you all enjoy and Happy Holidays or Happy New Year, everyone!

Two weeks.  
They left me here two weeks ago.  
I’ve been rotting in here for two weeks.  
Two weeks ago, they said they would try and visit, and two weeks ago, they abandoned me.  
I am a blemish on their otherwise perfect life.  
They used to love me more than anything, even with the secrets and lying. But now, now that I’m an ‘inconvenience’- as they put it- I could probably die right now and they wouldn’t even bat an eyelash.  
Such good people the Fentons are.  
That’s what the neighbors say- when they weren’t talking about the ghost hunting.  
Yes, very good people.  
Until you become a burden.  
I wonder if this is how Vlad felt when he was in the hospital. Maybe how he still feels.  
Because they didn’t give me a chance to show them, to explain.   
They thought that I thought I had ghost powers.   
But I know I have ghost powers.  
It’s a little hard to forget seeing your parents bash your ghost half right in front of you.  
It’s a tiny bit difficult to ignore the scars that trace your body because of ghost fights.  
They didn’t know that I’m half ghost- they just think I’m crazy.  
So they put me here instead of talking to me.  
Saint Armand’s Institute for the Mentally Ill.  
The building used to be a mansion, but the owners sold it about eighty years ago and the Director’s father bought it and turned it into a looney bin.  
It’s a nice looking building- where the public is allowed.  
The rooms are small. The only decorations are stiff, squeaky cots, rusting sinks, yellowing toilets, and small windows- barely four by four inches- located at the top of the room, barred, and unreachable. The walls are all plain gray concrete. The door is a heavy stainless steel behemoth of a door. The common room is just card tables and folding chairs. Tall, iron barred windows lined one wall. A nurse’s desk on the other. The common room doubles as a cafeteria and pharmacy. The pills are handed out with the meals at the nurse’s station, and they watch you to make sure you take them. If you don’t, good luck. They come when you go to sleep. They hold you down and pry your mouth open, stuff them as far down into your throat as they can and choking, make you take them. I still have bruises from the last time.   
The pills they give me make me feel sick. My stomach churns and bubbles. I can hear it sometimes. I get a headache and it feels like there is a spike being driven around a whole ring of bone on the inside of my skull, just above my eyebrows. I get the shakes and my vision blurs. Sometimes it’s so bad I can’t even walk straight. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fallen over in the past two weeks.  
Sometimes the nurses will just grab people. They drag them in and strap them down to a lab table. Nobody really remembers everything that happens, but the biggest theory is electro shock treatment. They sedate us first, so it gets a little blurry.  
I’ve been in twice.  
And then there’s solitary. A completely padded, white room. A flap that opens up from the outside is the only thing that opens frequently. White fluorescent lights buzz and the padding is the only bed or thing of comfort there.  
If you misbehave or act out in any way, even if you just don’t go to the bathroom when they tell you, bam! Locked up for a few days without any human contact. The only time you even see anything resembling a person is when the hand slides a tray of food under the flap in the door. If they send food at all. They ‘forget’ sometimes.  
I’m the youngest prisoner/patient here. The youngest used to be Macey- she’s 24. St. Armand’s doesn’t have a children’s ward and it’s the only Institution for miles around, so I’m stuck with the adults. It’s funny sometimes. The older patients have all mostly just taken me in as their own. They give me some extra food they have, because the nurses keep forgetting that I’m a growing teenage boy, and a piece of bread isn’t exactly gonna cut it. But they’ve kinda adopted me. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone babies me. Agatha- she’s the oldest, 94 years old- she gives me candies from, like, 1950. I don’t actually eat them because George, 32 years old, and self assigned leader of the patients, said that Zeke ate them once and had to go to an actual hospital. George has assigned himself as my Dad, and Miranda-she’s 39, and sort of everyone’s mom- has taken up that role, since my biological ones decided I was too much trouble to love anymore.  
It’s the most support I have. Just the other patients. And it’s not like I’m not appreciative of it, I really am, but George has dissociative identity disorder, meaning that sometimes he’s not him, and he’s someone else entirely, but Stacey- a 32 year old lawyer from the Bronx, who takes him over sometimes- is actually kinda mean to the other patients. All of the other patients, my whole support system right now has their own problems to deal with, and I can’t expect them to be able to help me with certain things.  
Sam, Tucker, and Jazz haven’t visited or even tried. I don’t think my parents told them where I am. Otherwise they'd've been here within the first three days.  
I’ve tried escaping with my ghost powers, but St. Armands is one of the facilities that agreed to test a new Fenton ghost prevention invention, which was a completely unintentional rhyme, by the way. Anyway, the new invention is a ghost-proof dome. Colorless, undetectable, ghosts cat get in or out, and it suppresses the powers of any and all ghosts inside.  
Isn’t that just convenient???  
\--X--  
I’ve been in here almost two months.  
I haven’t seen or heard from anyone.  
I asked George if there was a way to send someone a letter. He said that there was, but you needed your own stamp. He lent me one of his.  
I guess all of the other patients have visitors at least once a week. They bring them things, like candy and photos, and stamps too, I suppose.  
Nobody knew that I wasn’t getting visitors until I was asked where I meet with them. They’d never seen me with one, so they assumed I just met with them somewhere else. Their faces when I told them that I never get any made me feel small.   
I’ve been in solitary a couple of times now. I really hate the pills they give me.  
It’s been getting worse. Sometimes I can’t even move with the pills. I just sit at a table in the commons and freeze for a few minutes until the paralysis wears off.  
How long are my parents going to leave me in here?  
I’ve missed two months of school when I’m not even crazy. There’s nothing mentally wrong with me, I don’t think. What about if I’m in here past school?   
What if they just forget about me in here?  
Will I die in here?  
\--X--  
A year.   
It’s been a fucking year.   
I haven’t seen anyone from my old life.  
I’ve sent letters.  
Nobody ever responds.  
Why am I even here?  
I don’t belong here.  
I know that’s what everyone says, but I have never had a problem with anything mental before, and I sure as hell have a ghost half.  
I don’t think they remember me.  
Or at least, they don’t care about me enough to drive for five minutes to come and see me.  
I know for a fact that the doctors have called them, I’ve seen it, but they never answer.  
They’re never there.  
And they never cared.  
None of them.  
Not even Jazz, or Sam or Tucker.  
Nobody.  
I’m alone.  
I’ve only gotten one letter back and it was from ‘The Hutchins Family’ telling me to stop sending letters to their house. They explained that they had just recently bought the house.  
Everyone just left me here.  
\--X--  
I had been searching for Daniel for months. The boy had fallen off of the radar a year ago and could not be tracked by his ecto signature for whatever reason. I tried calling the Fentons, but his calls went unanswered.  
All very suspicious.  
But I had finally found him.  
He’d been in St/ Armand’s Institute for the Mentally Ill for the past year.  
Under his nose the whole time.  
With some digging he found Danny’s record.  
No visitors.  
He doesn't like to take his pills.  
He’s been in solitary over 30 times.  
He’s been forced to take his pills 34 times.  
He’s been given ‘treatments’ only five times.  
His parents checked him in. They said that he believed he had ghost powers.  
And then they abandoned him there.  
He’d written letters, and the doctors had tried calling them too, but they were unreachable.  
How can they do that to people. Daniel isn’t the first to be left behind by them. When I was in my accident they called an ambulance, sent me to a hospital, and I didn’t see them again in person until the Reunion, 20 years later. They’ve done the same thing to their son. As soon as he stops being alright- in their eyes- he becomes a burden.   
And the good thing about a burden like that, is that people can drop in off at an institution and pretend it never happened.  
Daniel has been completely alone for a year. So I am going to visit him.  
I may not be on the allowed visitors list, but I have enough money to be.  
So here I stand.  
The tall, white building of St. Armand’s loomed over me. The sky behind it clouded and gray. The wind whipping up dust and dried leaves, and howling around the structure in front of me. Small, barred windows line the outer marble walls, a set of tall windows, also barred, exposes a number of patients, each one dressed in white scrubs.  
I felt it on my way in. This was one of the buildings that had the experimental anti-ghost dome on it. I felt my powers be uncomfortably suppressed when I stepped onto the property. That’s why Daniel hasn’t escaped, and why I couldn’t find his ecto signature.   
I open the door into the front hallway. The building is beautiful on the inside. Marble floors, a chandelier, and a modern wooden desk in the center of it.  
I walk to the desk. A perky looking woman is filing some paperwork and humming a tune.  
“Can I help you, sir?”  
“Uh, yes. I’m here to visit.” She pulled out a sheet of paper and clicked a pen.  
“Who are you visiting?”  
“Daniel Fenton.” She nodded and wrote down some information on the paper. Turning to the computer on the desk, she typed in his name and looked back to me.  
“And what i your name, sir?”  
“Vlad Masters.” She checked the screen and frowned.   
“I’m sorry sir, your name isn’t on the list.” I subtly pulled my wallet out of my pocket and gave her two hundred dollar bills.  
“I’m sure it can be.” Her eyes widened and she held back a smile.  
“Of course, Mr. Masters. He’s right upstairs in the Commons. You’re going to need this-” she handed me the sheet of paper she’d been filling out “- so the Orderlies will let you in. Have a nice day, sir.” She smiled and looked back over at the computer, putting my name on the list and clutching the money beneath the desk.  
I walked towards the direction of the stairs and slowly trudged up.   
I followed the signs until I found the Commons. It was a plain, gray room. But it was the most populated.  
Patients sat laughing together at the tables spread out in rows. Some were silent and staring, others were twitching uncontrollably, and others were smashing their fists on the table in a fit of laughter.  
My eyes scanned the room, looking for Daniel’s small figure.  
He was sitting at the center of it all, his back being slapped by a patient with short brown hair, laughing hard. He was smiling and chuckling at the reactions around him.  
He’d found a few friends here. That’s good. I wouldn’t want him to be completely antisocial. It’s not healthy in situations like this.  
I stalked towards him, some patients staring at me as I walked past, others completely ignoring my existence.  
When I finally got to him, I tapped him lightly on the shoulder.  
His head swung back to look at me and his smiling face fell.  
I smiled at him and motioned him to follow me.  
We need privacy for what we’re about to talk about.  
He excused himself from the commotion with a “Gotta go, George, I have a visitor.”  
He walked quickly to catch up to me, stumbling a few times. We rounded the corner, leaving the Commons and going to the Visiting rooms I’d seen on my way in.  
I opened the door for Daniel and followed him inside the Visiting room. It was fancy looking. Luxurious couches lined two walls and a tall window overlooking a garden with white roses and green trees.  
Daniel sat down on a couch and twiddled his fingers. I sat down on the couch opposite him and smiled.  
“So how have you been?” I asked innocently. He gave me a wry look and he opened his mouth to speak.  
“How do you think I’ve been?”  
“I’m not sure. That’s why I’m asking. You disappeared a year ago and I haven’t even been able to get ahold of your parents. Why are you in here?”  
He looked down at the floor.  
“My parents think I’m crazy.” I motioned for him to continue. He sighed and nodded his head once, as if deciding something. “They abandoned me here because they think that I think I have ghost powers. They locked me up in here before they even gave me a chance to prove it. There’s a dome around the building, so I can’t prove it to anyone, or escape.”  
“You’ve tried escaping?”  
“Yeah. Of course I have. I don’t belong here. I’m perfectly sane. Plus, I’m not sure what’s legal in institutions like this one, but I’m pretty sure they abuse us. Or at least me. I’m the only one they forget to feed a lot.”  
He talked about it like it was nothing. It is very illegal for an institutions to withhold food without a very good reason. As in a reason of life and death. But even then, the patient should probably be in a hospital for physical injuries, not a mental institution. I’m going to have to ask him about it now. I may be able to get a class action lawsuit against this place. I nodded at the boy and encouraged him to continue.  
“You’re the first visitor I’ve had, you know. You, of all people. You visited me before my parents did. Before Jazz did, even before Sam and Tucker. I’m pretty sure they don’t actually care about me all that much, or they would’ve found me by now. I’m still in Amity Park. Maybe Mom and Dad didn’t tell them where I was. I don’t know. I just- I’m the youngest one here by a couple of years. There aren’t any other kids here and it’s been lonely. The other patients are more like my parents right now than my actual parents.  
They wouldn’t leave me here to rot, anyway. Where are they Vlad? Why haven’t they visited me? Do they not want me, or something? I’m their son. They can’t just-”  
Daniel cut himself off and choked back a sob, blinking the tears out of his eyes. I suppressed a shudder at what the boy was going through. This had to be very therapeutic for him. Being able to voice all of these thoughts to someone who actually cares about him. That must be why he’s sharing so much. I made my way over to the seat next to him and hugged him.  
I read somewhere that hugs are good devices for comforting people, and the boy obviously needed comfort.   
He turned into my suit and wept.  
“I’m going to get you out of here Daniel. If it’s the last thing I do.”  
\--X--  
I waved goodbye to George, Agatha, Miranda, Macey, and everyone. I promised to keep in touch with them, visit, and hopefully petition their loved ones to take them out of St. Armand’s.  
Vlad had finally gotten me out. It had taken a month, but now I’m out. And for the first time in over a year, I feel like I can finally breathe.  
Vlad’s driver drove the black cadillac off of the property and I gasped. My powers that had been stifled for so long came back full force when we crossed the dome. It felt like drinking water for the first time in days. Like eating food when you haven’t eaten in a long time. It felt amazing. I felt whole again.  
I smiled at the feeling of both of my halves being active and healthy.  
I’m going to be staying with Vlad. We finally found my parents and, do you want to know where they were?  
Fucking Alabama.  
They shoved me into that place and left me for dead.  
They probably weren’t ever planning on getting me out.  
But now I’m going to live with Vlad. He doesn’t have to let me stay with him, but he is. I don’t want to see my parents again, so Vlad will probably take care of them if they need taking care of.  
I’m not sure I really want to see Sam, Tucker and Jazz either. I mean, honestly, I’ve been in here for a year and they could’ve just checked the police database. The patient’s status had to be given to the police, just so they know where to find them if a family member went missing. They never actually did that at St. Armand’s though. They just left us alone most of the time, and power tripped us whenever they could. The only time I’ve actually been helped by the staff was when the doctors tried calling my family.  
Either way, it could probably have been very easy to find me. The only reason I should’ve been in here this long is if they had given up looking- which would’ve been the most pathetic search in the history of searches- or they just hadn’t been looking- that’s why Vlad hadn’t found me until later. I can excuse Vlad, he was my enemy, but Sam, Tucker, and Jazz? They are the three humans I actually like who know my secret. Why didn’t they try harder?Why did they leave me alone?  
The car rumbled up the long, winding driveway to Vlad’s Wisconsin castle. The frigid, late december air blew the snow that covered the ground, swirling it up into the air and whipping it around like a beautiful dance.  
The car pulled into a huge garage underneath the Castle. Fancy, expensive looking cars were lined up wall to wall. Vlad motioned for me to follow him up the stairs.  
The foyer was decorated with bright reds and greens instead of the usual gaudy greens and yellows. Garlands hung along the wall, lights shimmering from between them.  
At the end of the hall, a massive 50 ft tall christmas tree stood. From it dangled round glass orbs colored gold, green and red. White lights circled it, illuminating the shadowed parts of the tree. Glass snowflakes dangled from every other branch, refracting the light and casting rainbows on everything. At the very top of the tree, a small, simple glass ornament was perfectly balanced. It looked like it was holding the colors around it captive, keeping them from escaping and dotting the ceiling with colorful constellations. A mountain of presents were piled beneath the tree, who knows who the recipient is.  
Vlad smiled at the display and escorted me to my room. Blue walls, a four poster bed with silk sheets, and my own bathroom- complete with jacuzzi. The closet already had all sorts of clothes- all exactly my size- which, yes, was a little creepy, but I’m not about to complain.  
I’m ready to start my new life. I’ve been locked up for a year, and I am ready to move on.  
I just wish my parents never left me there. I didn’t deserve it. Nobody deserves it.  
All I was trying to do is help, and because of that, I was left to rot.  
I want to know why, but I never want to see them.no  
\--X--  
Something cold touched my side. I groaned and wrapped myself into a tight cocoon. There was muffled laughter, but I ignored it. This bed is so comfortable, it’s like sleeping on the ocean. It’s nice and warm, too. Just the right temperature, I’m not too hot, but when I touch my leg or something it feels like sunshine. I’m not getting up. Not today. This is the most comfortable thing I’ve slept on in the past year. And solitary was actually very cushy.   
Something poked the side of my stomach and I growled, but ignored it otherwise.  
“It’s time to get up, Little Badger.”  
Ugh.  
No.  
“Daniel, you need to wake up now.”  
Ew.  
“Daniel, wake up.”  
“No.” Vlad laughed and prodded my side again. I went intangible so he couldn’t do it again.  
“Daniel.”  
“Mmmhhh.”  
“Fine, then. You leave me no choice, Little Badger.”  
Staying intangible, I expected him to try and shake me awake.  
Instead , he stuck his hand under the blankets and used his heat powers.  
I was out of there in under a minute. I ran out onto the balcony of my room, into the freezing air. Since my cold core developed, I’ve been a lot more sensitive to hot things. Vlad has the same thing, but he can’t stand cold weather. Even around the house right now he’s wearing hats and gloves.  
I turned back and glared at his smiling face.  
“Not cool, Froot Loop.”  
“Of course it wasn’t cool, Daniel. It was warm.”  
I gave him a wry look and walked back inside. “What’s with the rude awakening?”  
“Really?”  
I shrugged my shoulders and looked at him expectantly. The only answer I got was an incredulous stare and a motion to look at his shirt.  
Oh.  
It was an ugly christmas sweater. Bright obnoxious green with white snowflakes stitched on the sleeves and a reindeer prancing across his chest wearing a red harness. On Vlad’s head, a set of felt antlers sat, the bells that were sewn on jingled in their spots with each shake of his head.  
It’s christmas day.  
My first christmas out of St. Armand’s.   
And Vlad Masters, one of the richest men in the world, decided to go out and buy some hideous christmas themed sweater, and wear some ridiculous antlers, just so I could at least find that entertaining, if nothing else this christmas was good. I’m assuming that’s why, anyway.  
So, of course I burst out laughing at him.  
He immediately frowned and crossed his arms. “What?”  
“Y-you look friggin’ ridiculous!” I barely managed to gasp out.  
It wouldn’t have been as funny. But Vlad is one of the most straight-laced, least willing to joke around people I know. So you can understand my amusement.  
His frown deepened and he sighed. “Well, Daniel, I suppose if I look ridiculous, you won’t want your outfit for today.”  
What?  
Vlad slowly pulled a poorly wrapped gift out from behind his back, grinning like a maniac. He tossed it to me and I nearly dropped it. It was light, and about the size of a folded sweater.   
Oh no- he didn’t. Did he?  
I ripped open the paper and stared at what was inside.  
A white knit sweater with an intricate black design stitched in. It was very distracting. It was almost like a chess board, but there was more diamonds and snowflakes.   
It was terrible.  
I held up the sweater and unfolded it. A pair of antlers fell out of the folds and jingled a little bit. I stared at the whole ensemble before glaring back at Vlad.  
“Why?” He grinned evilly at me.   
“Put it on and we can start our day, Little Badger.”  
He walked out of my room chuckling. He shut the door and I dropped my glare and sighed deeply.  
What’s so good about christmas anyway?  
When I was younger it only brought arguments into my home.  
There was the one kinda okay christmas when I was fourteen, but most of that was spent trying to fix the mess the Ghostwriter got me into.  
Then there was last christmas.  
“Annie Klein?”  
“Right here!”  
Annie ran up to the front of the commons and grabbed the gifts she’d been sent by her family.  
Every year, one of the orderlies would dress up as Santa and gather up all of the presents sent in by people. The visitors could come in and bring their own, but some of the patients are too far gone to care about visitors. Santa, however, is remembered. Usually, anyway. And a lot of the patient’s families live too far away to visit, so they just send the gifts in.  
There was a new list of people every day. Different people send in different gifts at different times. Today is the last day for Santa.  
I listened intently for my name.  
My parents may have left me here, but they had to have sent me a gift. Even if they didn’t want to visit me, I’m still their son. They still love me.  
The Orderly finished reading the list after a few minutes, but he never said my name.  
That had to be a mistake.  
I slowly walked up to the Orderly while he collected the extra wrapping paper.  
“Um, excuse me.” He looked up and smiled at me.   
“Yes, young man, what can I do for you?” he said, still in character.  
“I was wondering if you had anything for Danny Fenton? It might be under Daniel?”  
The orderly flipped through the papers stashed on his clipboard. He furrowed his brow and frowned. I bit my lip nervously.  
They couldn’t just forget about me. It’s christmas! Even with all the fighting they’ve always managed to buy me and Jazz presents. The Orderly shook his head and gave me a sympathetic look. The orderlies were usually the nicest to the patients.  
“Sorry, kid. You’re not on here. I checked all the days.”  
Oh. So they had forgotten. I looked down at my feet and nodded. I blinked back some tears, muttered a thank you, and took shaky steps back toward my room.  
I didn’t notice George and Miranda watching me with sad looks on their faces.  
When I got to my room, I collapsed. My cot squeaked underneath my weight and I sobbed into my pillow.  
I couldn’t believe it. They had forgotten about me. They were going to pretend I didn’t exist. Sure, they might visit, but they hadn’t ever visited before. Why would it be any different. My parents didn’t care about me. They probably just want to forget I was ever born.  
But how can they just-?! I’m their son! They used to love me, anyway. Back before they thought I was crazy. How can they do this to me?! How could they do this to anyone?!  
They are horrible people!  
Oh, god. They’re awful people. The people who raised me, my parents, are terrible human beings. They taught me everything, and they are more selfish and inconsiderate than Vlad!  
And Vlad cheated and robbed his way to the top!  
But even he would never do this. This is just too cruel.  
I’m not even actually sick! I’m perfectly mentally healthy!   
A few days after the end of the gift thing, George walked up to me, a plump woman with a wide smile and kind eyes hung off of his arm.  
“Hey, Danny. I’d like you to meet my wife, Julie. Julie, this is Danny. He’s the youngest patient.”  
Julie’s smile fell for a half a second before it was back in full force. She stretched out her hand to me to shake. “It’s lovely to meet you Danny.” she said sweetly.  
“You too.” I smiled back at her. George looked between the two of us and spoke up.  
“Well now, Danny. I noticed how you never got any gifts from Santa.” I looked down at my shoes and nodded once. I didn’t really want to think about how my parents decided that I wasn’t worth thinking about. George’s face fell, but he continued.  
“So, I had Julie go out and get you something.” Julie pulled a tall, rectangular box out of her large purse and held it out to me. I stared at the both of them, completely shocked.  
“Go ahead, sweetie, open it.” Julie encouraged with a gentle smile. I took the box and slowly tore into it.  
“I know how much you love space, and how you want to be an astronaut and all, so I thought you might like this.”  
It was a model rocket. My eyes widened and a grin grew on my face. I looked back up at George and Julie. I blinked back tears and thanked them endlessly.  
How can two strangers care more about me than my parents?  
Yeah, overall, last christmas sucked. It did have it’s good points, though. I sighed again and pulled off my pajamas, then slipped on the sweater, some jeans, and, reluctantly, the antlers.  
I walked out the door and headed down to the foyer.  
The number of gifts under the tree had grown somehow. Otherwise the place was decorated the same as when I first saw it, if not more extravagant.  
Vlad stood in front of the fireplace, drinking eggnog out of a champagne glass. I rolled my eyes at the sight. It’s eggnog, not frickin’ pinot noir. He smiled at the sight of me in the gaudy sweater and antlers. Taking another sip of eggnog, he chuckled at me.  
“Well, get to work.”  
“What?”  
“Some of these presents are for business partners and a few other individuals I’m not all that close to. But the ones closer to that couch there I believe are yours.”  
“You got me presents?”  
“Of course I did, Little Badger. Why wouldn’t I?”  
I could only stare at him. I looked at the pile of gifts that were supposedly mine. I smirked and looked back at Vlad.  
“I got you something too, Froot Loop.”  
“Really?”  
“Yeah, just lemme go grab it.” I dashed back up to my room and opened the closet door. I dug through a pile of clothes before I pulled out a tall, rectangular box, horribly wrapped, and ripped at one corner.  
I snatched it out of the pile and ran back downstairs.   
I held the box out for Vlad to take. He looked at it warily then glanced up at me. He stared at me for a moment before he returned his gaze to the box in his hands. His fingers slid under the ripped corner and pulled down, exposing the shoebox inside.  
“You got me shoes?”  
“Just finish opening it.”  
He rolled his eyes and opened the shoebox. His eyes widened and he smiled.  
Inside the shoebox, packed with toilet paper, was the model rocket George and Julie had given me. Vlad knew about last christmas. He knew what George and Julie did for me.  
That rocket was my favorite thing in St. Armand’s.  
And now I’ve given it to Vlad.  
It’s one of my more precious possessions, actually. It’s one of the few things I had the chance to bring to Vlad’s. I’m pretty sure the Fentons threw away my stuff when they moved.  
Vlad turns back to the tree and picks up an envelope held by the branches. He hesitantly hands it back to me.  
On the front in fancy gold cursive, was my name. I open it, expecting some sort of gift card of something of the sort.  
Adoption papers.  
Vlad- Vlad wants to adopt me. I mean, I’ve always known that he wanted me to belong to him or something, but this is different, this is adoption. This is me potentially becoming Danny Masters. I would’ve had an issue with that, but more recently, I’m almost wishing for a last name that’s not theirs. They don’t deserve me in their family.  
I looked up at Vlad, tears blurring my eyesight and sliding down my face.  
“Vlad?”  
“Daniel?” he said hopefully. He was nervous. He just offered to be my new parent and he’s worried I’m going to reject him. Even after all he’s done for me.   
“Where do I sign?”


End file.
